


The Cocktail War

by Sinnymin



Series: Just the patron, Just the barmaid [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnymin/pseuds/Sinnymin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of Just the patron, Just the barmaid. </p><p>redbirdinwhitecage prompted: they discuss drink names…the last one open the door to a first date…cosmopolitan, sex in the beach, soft kiss..there must be others…you choose the drink </p><p>I may or may not have gotten carried away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cocktail War

He didn’t call.

“Lovely my ass.” She muttered, cleaning a glass with a bit too much gusto.

For all that courage on her part, and he didn’t call, didn’t text, and he hadn’t been in the bar in a week. She didn’t know why, but she was so angry! Well, she did know why. Because he hadn’t called! She felt so insulted, and so embarrassed! Maybe he didn’t want her after all, and he was only trying to placate her. He had said he wanted to see her. Had said he came here for her. He had said so many things and she had lapped it all up like some stupid idiot! Did he expect her to sleep with him? No…he had been way too nervous for that. Had he wanted her to get out of his hair? Or butter her up for free drinks? Nothing seemed right. But why hadn’t he called? 

Why?

She put her dainty hand inside the glass to clean it, and with the thoughts in her head distracting her, and her anger and humiliation at this flowing through her, she must have been cleaning too hard, because the glass broke. 

“Jesus!” She cried out, taking her hand out and cutting herself in the process. She threw down the now bloody rag she had been using to clean, grit her teeth, and went to the back room to get something to patch herself up with.  
~~~  
He was an ass and he hated himself. He hadn’t called. He had just left her high and dry after everything, and he couldn’t believe how stupid he was. The fear in ridicule was so huge in him that he couldn’t dare pick up the phone and call her. He couldn’t even send her a message. He was a coward, but then again, he always had been. He couldn’t get his head around the fact that a girl like Belle had given him her number under honest reasons. Couldn’t accept that she might just want the old barfly instead of some young man with promise and charisma and joy. His hands gripped on the steering wheel at that thought, though.

He remembered her last boyfriend because he had come into the bar a few times. Gaston. He was a lout, plain and simple. Strong in the arm and thick in the head. That was all there was to him. He couldn’t believe it when he had tried to kiss Belle (although he was delighted at her begrudged look through it). He hated to be the sort of person who would judge another person’s relationship, but the two of them didn’t match in his mind. He was pathetic. He knew. When he had left, she had confided in him that the relationship had come about from a set-up with her father and Gaston’s. Maurice French had always liked the man, and had wanted a good man for his precious daughter. What a shame the man he had decided had, as Belle had aptly put it “As much in common with her as a rock and a bird.” She lamented why her father couldn’t let her decide for herself. Why her choice wouldn’t be good enough for herself? She had looked up at hi, and for a second there was something in her eyes before she looked away again. He knew he loved her that night.  
He hadn’t realised then, wouldn’t let himself notice, but the look had been longing.

His mind was made up. His confidence was as good as it was going to get. He opened the car door and strode to the bar.  
~~~  
“Hey, what can I get…you!” Belle said. She had been distracted by adjusting the bandages on her hands before looking up into his face. She stood up straight and huffed, before going to make a cocktail.

“Belle…” he started, but his voice trailed off. The firm set of her jaw and the steely look she was giving the tall glass made him think twice about his decision to come here without calling first. Maybe he should have made some sort of excuse…

She set a drink in front of him and glared at him with crossed arms.

“What’s this?” he asked in confusion.

“Adios, Motherfucker.” She answered, whirling around to do something at the other end of the bar and leaving him in shock. He thought she was saying that directly to him, and it took him a while to realise that was the name of the cocktail she had pushed toward him. The shock soon faded to sadness, which, surprisingly, turned into hard-headedness. No matter who she was, how he felt about her, and how she felt about him, nobody got the upper hand on Robert Gold.

“Angel tits!” He called after her. 

She stalked over to him in rage.

“Excuse me?” She asked, incredulously.

“Adios Motherfucker isn’t exactly what I’m feeling tonight. I’m a big fan of a cocktail called Angel Tits.”

She gave him a wary look, before a corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

“It’s Angel’s tit.” She told him.

“My apologies.” He replied. 

She still had her arms folded, and was stood a distance from him behind the bar, but at least she was talking to him. He smiled lopsidedly, which nearly made her forgive him then and there. She couldn’t deny the pull of that smile. But he had to hold her own. For as long as she could.

“Well, if you want a cocktail tonight, might I suggest a Cock Sucking Cowboy? You might be familiar with it.”

“Well, I’ve heard you do a good Red Headed Slut. But I’ve never been a fan. How about a Brunettes can be Sluts Too?”

He was getting cheeky now. She flushed red, and she pursed her lips to stop from giggling, all while taking a step closer to the bar. He had started to lean on it, and she was sure that wouldn’t be good for his suit jacket, but he didn’t seem to care. He was grinning. Fuck him, he was grinning! He would not win this! She would have to up the game.

“There’s something I have that you might like.” She said, leaning down over the bar. She saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. She gave him a slow smile.

“Passion Pussy?” She asked him. 

She had to snap up and turn around so she wouldn’t start to laugh hysterically.

“A Little Piece of Heaven?” he shot back.

“A Slow, Comfortable Screw?” She suggested.

“What do you get off?” He asked.

“That isn’t a drink name, Robert.” She teased.

With a growl, he rounded the bar at the same time she was walking around it, and grabbed her by the hips as she reached up to put her hands at the back of his neck. She wanted him. There was no doubt.

“I wanted this to happen after dinner and wine…after a few dates.” He said, gazing down at her lips.

“This is good too.” She said, before dragging him down to her and kissing him with everything she had.


End file.
